


Memories

by TanyaReed



Category: Relic Hunter
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:18:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanyaReed/pseuds/TanyaReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 2006 or 2007.  Feeling nostalgic, Sydney misses the one person she could always depend on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

It had been a long time since she'd walked these halls.

The reality of that hit her as she made her way through the quiet corridors. When she had arrived that morning to visit an old friend, it seemed as if no more than days had passed. Now, walking them alone at night, when most of the students had gone home for the evening, Sydney felt the years. Eyeing the few stragglers, she wondered if the students had always been so young. They looked like babies. Of course, when she taught at Trinity, she hadn't been all that much older than her students.

Sydney found herself suddenly homesick. Not homesick for a place. She spent so little time in one place that not many had ever had the chance to be thought of as home. Instead, she was homesick for a time. A time when she believed she was worldy and wise, when, in fact, in some things she was as innocent as the young people in her classes. Anything had seemed possible then, and she had enough confidence in herself to believe she'd never fail.

Sydney had grown more practical lately. Life could be a bitch. Of course, she had known it then, but she hadn't really lived with it, stared it in the face and had it cruelly smile back. Back then, she thought she was immortal. Despite the death she'd seen, it had never seemed like it could touch her. Then, her friends had started to die. Too many of them had to pass before she realized how quickly precious life could fade.

Still feeling nostalgic, Sydney walked out into the quiet night. The air was crisp and cool, with just the faint lingering touch of passing summer. The stars above were clear and bright, and it was comforting to know that they, for the most part, had not changed.

As she crossed the grounds, an errant breeze reached out and tousled her hair. She closed her eyes and let it kiss her face, imagining she was young Professor Sydney Fox once more.

Not that she was old, she chided herself. At fifty, she was still a relic hunter, and a good one. She knew that some even considered her to be the best. Despite that, her years at Trinity had been the happiest in her life. 

On impulse, she decided not to go straight to the parking lot. Instead, she veered away towards the Ancient Studies building. She hoped it wasn't locked up for the evening.

As she approached, the building beckoned her like an old friend. She stopped for a moment at the doors, wondering if she should go in and wake up the past. It had been a long time since she'd called this building home. What if everything had changed? What if there were no memories of her inside? Sydney didn't know if she was ready to face that.

Again, the breeze played with her hair, as if trying to remind her of something. Or someone.

The image came to her, sharp and clear. A young man with hazel eyes and a sweet and timid smile stood beside her. He was so real, Sydney almost believed she could reach out and touch him.

Nigel.

How many times had they stood in front of this doorway talking or going to class or leaving on a hunt? It was at that moment that Sydney realized she wasn't just homesick for Trinity. She was also homesick for Nigel Bailey.

Sydney smiled as she thought of Nigel. Her memories of him were wrapped in fondness and happiness. He was the best friend she'd ever had, and the best thing to ever walk into--and then out of--her life. She could remember everything about him, from the way his face lit up when he found a relic to the way he smelled. He was left handed. He had the most amazing lashes. He always forgot to tuck in his shirt.

Letting Nigel's memory lead her forward, Sydney opened the door to Ancient Studies and slipped inside. All was dark and quiet, but in her mind she saw a noisy, bustling corridor. She and Nigel walked among the chaos, his brow drawn together as he worked on a particularly complex puzzle. Sydney had needed him so much then, for the logic he added to her instinct. And for the friendship and trust she never had to question.

She had loved him, she admitted to herself. In fact, she still loved him. Then, when love was supposed to be dangerous and exciting, not sweet, dependable, and lasting, she hadn't seen it. Instead, she let him slip through her fingers like water. It had taken time to completely realize what she had lost. By the time she understood that he was what she really needed, he was already gone. Now, all she had of him were fond memories.

Twice, when she was still teaching at Trinity, she had received letters from him. They were long and chatty and so Nigel that they had made her eyes burn. Sydney wanted to answer them, but she couldn't. She didn't know what to say. All she could think of was, "Please, please, come home." Because that was inappropriate, and saying anything else would have been too hard, the letters went unanswered. She would write to him now, or call, if she knew how to find him.

In her mind, she saw the day he said good-bye. Sydney could still feel the shattering in her chest. It had been torture to hear him say the words while trying to pretend she wasn't breaking inside. The pain was almost too much to bear, but she fought down the urge to beg him to stay and politely listened as he told her about the terrific job opportunity that had fallen into his lap. When he left, she promised to keep in touch, and her reasons for not doing so seemed silly now.

Sydney wondered about that job. Had Nigel been successful at it? Did he enjoy it? Most of all, she wondered if he ever regretted leaving her. Maybe he didn't even remember her. It hurt to think that being her assistant might have just been another job to him. Wherever Nigel was, she hoped that he was happy. He deserved nothing less.

Her journey brought her outside a door with a nameplate. Sydney could see herself standing in front of that door many times. Beyond it were two desks, lots of books, a sweet blond girl, either tall and thin with a little girl's voice or shorter and kinder with worldly blue eyes, a glass sealed inner office, and Nigel. Nigel bickering with Claudia. Nigel slumped in his chair, his glasses low on his nose, after researching something all night. Nigel smiling. It was funny. Despite the fact that Nigel had only been with her six out of the fourteen years she taught at Trinity, he was her time there. The two were so entangled in her mind, that they could never be seperated.

Sydney touched the door briefly, ignoring the fact that it held a name that wasn't hers. For one moment, she was home again.

Then, she heard voices and laughter. Sydney turned quickly, almost expecting to see Nigel and Karen come around the corner. Instead, it was two students, a boy and a girl, walking arm in arm. Their appearance broke the spell Sydney was under, and she was jerked forward out of the past.

"Oh, Nigel," she whispered, remembering how she had used those words in fondness and in admonishment, in joy and in annoyance.

With her mind's return from the past, the memories weren't quite as sharp. They began to settle back into their quiet place in her heart. Sydney stopped their retreat for a moment so she could hold them close. Closing her eyes, she let herself briefly remember everything about Nigel. She could even recall the softness of his skin the few times she had touched it and the way his body felt as she clung to it when she discovered he hadn't really been killed retrieving the Sword of Ateas in Russia. 

Then, Sydney sighed and let the memories go. A feeling of peace filled her, almost as if she had really been communing with her dearest friend. A soft smile touched her face, and she opened her eyes. She gave the door a friendly, conspiratorial pat before turning her back on it.

A decision was made as she walked away. It wasn't that hard to find a person. As she had once told Nigel, people couldn't be harder to find than relics. Maybe it was time she saw him in more than just memories.

Yes, it would be good to see him again.


End file.
